Gargoyles, Meet New York
by JynxedDraca
Summary: {Previously Brooklyn, Meet Pepper Spray} Series of one-shots delving into the lives of our favorite clan. Will get updated sporadically, rated for death non-canon , drugs, nudity and dirty language. Will eventually feature all characters.
1. Brooklyn, Meet PepperSpray

Brooklyn, in his (comparatively) young age of 38, had seen and experienced a great many things both on and off the battlefield. On the battlefield, he had seen everything from swords, maces, and arrows, to catapults and magic; and he had come to both know and understand these weapons intimately at his time at Castle Wyvern.

None of it prepared him for one woman with a can.

He was currently sitting down in Elisa's kitchen, tears streaming down his face and rubbing his eyes because they burned with the wrath of Hell, or what he assumed Hell would feel like. He knew his rookery brothers, Lexington and Broadway, were concerned for their friend and that Goliath was also standing in Elisa's kitchen trying to fully understand what exactly happened.

"The woman freaked out! She attacked Brooklyn with some sort of sorcery!" Broadway cried out, voice raised in his upset state.

"It wasn't magic; it was some sort of can. I think she thought Brooklyn was going to attack her and tried to defend herself." Lex said, sounding a little unsure of himself.

"Yeah, and if I had been attacking her it would of worked wonderfully." Brooklyn grit out.

"It sounds like the woman had a can of pepper spray." Elisa said, understanding quicker than Goliath. She didn't sound terribly pleased with the thought either, Brooklyn decided as he heard their detective suck air through her teeth. "It won't last forever, but your eyes will sting until sunrise for sure, longer if you keep rubbing them."

Brooklyn immediately stopped rubbing his eyes, instead clenching his fists in an effort to ignore the pain and simultaneously not grab Elisa's countertops. He doubted they would withstand his grip very well.

"What is peppery spray?" Goliath asked cautiously as Brooklyn heard the sound of the fridge opening.

"It's a liquid that's made from peppers really; the peppers have an oil that causes a burning sensation. I know a way to help with the pain."

"It wouldn't happen to involve taking my eyes out would it?" Brooklyn quipped.

"No, I think you might need those yet." Elisa tried to joke.

"What's the milk for?" Broadway asked.

'Milk?' Brooklyn thought. 'How's milk going to help?'

"The fat in milk helps counteract the oil in the peppers. It won't completely stop the burning, but it will help." She said, boots tapping the tiles as she walked over to Brooklyn.

Brooklyn felt Elisa's hand on his arm. "I'm going to lean you over the sink. I need you to hold your eyes open when I do this." She said.

Brooklyn nodded mutely and let Elisa tip his head over then sink and then hold his eyelids open to pour cold milk over his burning eyes. His eyes kept trying to twitch shut, but with gentle coaxing and half a gallon of milk, his eyes did feel a lot better. He didn't have to fight to open his eyes anyways, though he still squinted and his eyes ached.

"Better?" Elisa asked.

Brooklyn cocked his head to look at her; she looked to be a bit worried and was holding out a dish rag to him. "Much, thanks." He said taking the cloth and wiping milk off his head, daubing lightly around his eyes. "Where'd you learn that trick?" He asked.

"My dad likes really hot peppers in his food, found out the hard way not to rub my eyes after cutting up a bunch." She said, flashing him a grin as she stowed the milk back in the ice box.

"Did you know it would work on pepper spray?" Lex asked, ever the curious one. Though Brooklyn admitted he was curious about it too.

"Yes. Yes I did." She said.

It was Broadway that asked the next question. "Why? Did you get sprayed once?'

Brooklyn noticed Elisa grimace, but she answered honestly. "Yeah, part of cop training. They show you all the non-lethal weapons, how they work and you have to understand how it feels to have them used on you." The look on her face showed that it was not a pleasant memory.

"You mean other cops sprayed you with it?" Brooklyn painfully glanced at their leader; he didn't look terribly pleased himself.

"Yes, all cops have to go through it once. It does two things: the first one is that if we were to be pepper sprayed or tazed out in the field, we wouldn't lose our heads because we already knew what was happening. Secondly, it's a deterrent; it keeps cops from being too liberal with the stuff."

That seemed to satisfy Goliath, though he still didn't look happy about it. Though once Brooklyn thought about it, he didn't like the idea of Elisa getting pepper sprayed or tazed either. "Why on earth would anyone make such a vile substance?" Brooklyn finally asked, trying to resist the urge to rub his eyes some more.

Elisa leaned against the fridge. "Protection mostly." She said. "As you've seen, it's rather hard to attack someone if you can't see and are in a lot of pain." She explained. "Women especially carry it if they have to walk by themselves at night, my sister Beth does whenever she visits. It doesn't leave her hand until she's safe inside where she's staying."

It made sense, now that he wasn't in agony and everyone had calmed down some, it actually seemed like a very useful substance when one thought about it. He still hated it though, and vowed that he would never go near the stuff again if he could help it at all. It was worse than being electrocuted by Macbeth and the Steel Clan combined.

"How long did you say my eyes were gonna hurt?" Brooklyn asked.

"Hours. It feels like forever, I know. Hopefully you won't get sprayed again." She said.

"Boy I hope not." Brooklyn mumbled, wiping off a rogue tear, and wincing as the burning sensation began again. 'I _hate_ pepper spray' He though violently.

* * *

><p><em>Okay, I will admit, this is my first ever fanfiction. I don't really write them, but this nugget popped about what would happen if the gargoyles experienced pepper spray and it wouldn't leave me alone. I may add more drabbles, but not likely, so don't hold your breath.<em>

_Now, I'm sure people are going to argue about Brooklyn's age, well I looked it up on the GargWiki, found the year he was hatched, did some math and found out that he's almost 40 when season 1 started. Then you have to remember that they age at half the rate we do, so his comparable age in human years would be 19 or so. _

_More people are going to get onto me about the cops pepper spraying each other, well guess what, that is an actual part of police training. One of my brother's friends went through it and he was tazed and pepper sprayed. He hated it. Go figure. _

_Oh, and this is set right after they woke up, like within a few months I would think._

_Hope you enjoyed!_

_EDIT 9-18-11_

_Wow. Just wow. I have a TON of hits for this already, people like this more than they seem to like my original non-fanfiction story. And because a couple of people asked, I'll bite: What topic would you like to see the gargoyles encounter next? Sex? Drugs? Rock-n-Roll? Something else?_

_Though I will ask a favor, if you like this story, please check out my original works at .com/~jynxeddraca or my artworks at .com (shameless plug) I would greatly appreciate it. For any of my stuff, reviews are always welcome, flames too, but critiques are what I live for though.  
><em>


	2. Hudson, Meet Drugs

_Here's the next in the Meet series. I'm using Hudson in this one partially because Hudson doesn't get a lot of love and partially because he doesn't leave the home too often. In a way, this could explain the behavior to a degree._

_Anyways, hope you enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Hudson, Meet Drugs<p>

Car horns and the loud roar of more people than there should be talking assaulted his ears. Bright, unnatural lights accosted his eyes. The strange stench of the city, from the bizarre liquid called gas to too strong perfumes people insisted on wearing, it all offended his nose that was more familiar with the subtle smells of natures.

Hudson sniffed once again as a slightly more familiar, though even less welcome, smell reached him. "Ack, one thousand years and humans can't find a better place for their refuse than in the gutter." He grumbled spreading his wings and taking to the air to escape the smell of the alley he had been near.

Finding a better place to roost until the stench cleared out of his nose he had to remind himself why he left the comfortable armchair and the television to stalk around this new loud world. Glancing around the alleyway he noticed two people with a large piece of paper between their hands that he recognized as a map and remembered: He needed to know about the clan's new territory. He didn't like this new world, save for a few of the modern conveniences and their new friend Elisa ('who Goliath seems somewhat taken with.' Hudson mused, not sure if he was amused or exasperated by this).

Faint sounds of a stringed instrument drew his vision to a young human woman playing a violin with the window open. Hudson added one more thing to his mental list of things humans do that were okay, the song that the woman was playing was slow, pleasant and soothing. Very different from the racket the trio had discovered and claimed to be music. Another glance at the window told him that she either had the song memorized or she was simply making up the tune as she went; he eyes were closed and she was swaying with the music.

He sat quietly for a couple of minutes listening to the music before another sound caught his ears. Hudson looked into the alley and glared at the humans who were interrupting. Two people, one was male and the other was a female, were arguing in the shadows. Squinting he could make out both of their figures. The male was tall, sporting a long heavy-looking coat and had the air about him that reminded Hudson far too much of the highway men from the 10th century. The woman looked as though she was or had been very well off in life, wearing a skirted form of the suit Xanatos had worn before Elisa had him carted off to jail.

The woman was begging the man for something, Hudson hadn't caught what it was she wanted just yet and he wondered if the man had taken something from her. Unsure if he should intervene, he sat on his ledge listening intently incase the situation called for him to intervene.

"Please, just give it to me!" The woman pleaded while trying to grab something from the man's pockets.

"You know the rules: you give me something, I will reciprocate in kind. But you will pay me first." The man stated firmly, almost coldly, pulling something form his coat pocket and holding it far out of the woman's reach.

"I don't-I don't think I…I-I have this!" She jerked off something from around her wrist and as it caught the light, Hudson guessed it was made of some valuable metal which was confirmed a second later. "It's gold, hell it's a Rolex, that's more than what the stuff is worth."

Hudson rolled his eyes, they were bartering, and he got all worked up over two humans talking prices. 'Although," Hudson thought stroking his beard. '-what could they be haggling prices over, in a back alley no less, that that woman couldn't get in a store?' the suspicion that something illegal was happening started to bloom.

"I don't normally take objects, especially pricey ones like this sweetheart, but in your case, I'll make an exception." The man took the Rolex and handed over a small bag.

Hudson nearly snorted in amusement. 'All that fuss over a wee thing? It must be either very valuable or she is rather gullible.'

The male was walking off and the woman was digging around in her bag for something and Hudson, deciding that the woman was in no immediate danger save from bad bartering, turned his attention back to the woman with the violin who had switched from the slow song to something more jaunty and was moving so much with the music that it looked almost like a dance. He was content to listen to the music until what could arguable be the worst smell he had ever had the misfortune of coming across attacked his nose.

Covering his nose with one hand and looking back at the woman in the alley, he noticed she had a lighter out and was, for lack of a better word, cooking something in a spoon. Hudson quickly shrank out of sight when he noticed (just in time) that the girl with the violin had stopped playing and was currently sporting a disgusted look on her face that probably mirrored Hudson's.

Sticking her head out the window, the violinist glared at the woman in the alley. "Take your cheap-ass crack somewhere else! That shit stinks!" She called receiving only a finger raised in response from the woman in the alley.

Hudson was not sure what 'cheap-ass crack' was, but he did agree that it was a nasty smell. Looking down again, he noticed the woman had rolled up her sleeve, had tied a thong around her bicep and was holding something against her skin. The spoon was on the ground and the lighter was clenched in one hand.

Looking closely, he realized the woman had a syringe (something he recognized from a medical show on last night) and was injecting something into her arm. Staring at the woman, he watched as her scared, jittery face relaxed and she leaned back with a sigh looking for all the world like she was going to sleep there save for the fact her eyes were open.

And now Hudson was stuck where he was. The woman who had been playing the violin was facing the window playing on her computer and the woman in the alley was facing in the general direction of where Hudson was sitting. He sighed and just stayed still, he figured the woman in the window couldn't stare at the dumb box for too long.

He was wrong.

Hudson sat there for over an hour before she finally stretched and walked off, seizing his chance he jumped off the ledge. Luckily no one had come or gone since the man and woman argued, but the woman with the syringe was still there. He sighed, figuring she had fallen asleep thanks to whatever it was that she put in her body and deciding he might as well wake her up. 'Better awake and scared half to death than sleeping and getting robbed' He thought leaning down to shake her shoulder. He gave pause; the woman's eyes were still open, half-lidded, but open. She should have seen him walking towards him.

Brows creasing together, he looked at her: Her skin was far to pale, her eyes had an emptiness to them and were becoming cloudy, and she wasn't breathing. Hudson reached out and gently closed the lifeless eyes, shuddering at how cold her face was. She had been dead for a long while. Looking down, he saw the little bag she had bartered for her Rolex earlier on the ground with some brownish powder on it and a spoon with some sort of liquid in it.

A wave of disgust rolled through him aimed at that spoon. That man had sold this poor woman her death, and she had welcomed it, begged for it even. He shook his head, not understanding why or how any creature could take their life in such a way.

The sound of nearby footsteps alerted him and he quickly scaled the fire escape of the nearest building just as a door opened. Listening intently, he heard them discover the body of the woman.

"Is she asleep?"

"No, man I think she was using-She's dead!"

"Come off it Mac."

"No, I am totally not joking, she is dead!"

"…Oh man, call the cops dude."

"This is heavy."

"Yeah."

Hudson, convinced that the law would be involved soon enough, quietly took to the sky once more, this time to head back to the castle.

Later that night, watching one of the news channels with the clan, the face of the woman in the alley way appeared again. The reporter told a story how the alley woman, whose name was Michaela Dean and a graduate from a local college, overdosed on some drug called heroine earlier in the night. She was survived by her parents, a sister, and her sister's daughter.

Hudson felt physically ill and had to excuse himself from the room as they showed the picture of Michaela, alive, with her sister. All Hudson could see were the dead, blank eyes staring into the abyss.

He had seen death before, one doesn't live to be over a century old in medieval Scotland and not see it. Hudson had even been the cause of several would-be looters' and Vikings' deaths. He had seen death from arrow wounds, from the sword, from battle axes and maces, and, on one occasion, a rouge gargoyle that had gone blood mad and tore into soldiers. But for a seemingly well-off and healthy looking person to kill their self over some powdered drug-. Hudson shuddered; it seems like more than just technology has changed in the past 1,000 years.


	3. Bronx, Meet Pigeons

Bronx Meet Pigeons

Bronx had known something was different the moment he had awoken in this new world, the smells, the sounds everything was strange to him. Though he was able to easily adjust because few things seemed truly dangerous (save murderous robots and an old female clan mate), and he was in far more comfortable settings. Not to mention free reign to go about the castle wherever he pleased, a luxury that he had never really been offered in the 10th century.

At the moment, he was sitting on one of the crenels napping because he wasn't in the mood to listen to the loud box the others were so interested in. Hudson, he didn't mind sitting with, the sounds were often softer and easy to fall asleep with, the younger trio, who got to the box first tonight, were listening to loud racket and getting slightly rambunctious. Bronx was almost asleep when he felt something very light land on his back.

Lifting his head, he glanced at a very dull-looking bird that was strutting about his back. Bronx was taken aback, most birds didn't stick around long after they woke up and those that did learned very quickly to keep their distance from the gargbeast as bird meat was a favorite snack. Bronx wasn't in the mood for a snack at that moment and stood, shaking the bird off before laying back down again.

The bird landed right back on his back again. Letting out a growl he jumped up and shook violently to get the unwanted passenger off before jumping to the parapet and laying down with a loud huff. Two of the birds landed on his back, and one of them started pecking at the ridge going down his spine. With a loud bark, Bronx was on his feet snapping at the birds that had taken to the air. Waiting a minute with no sign of the dumb creatures, he laid back down again.

A soft cooing sound came from above him and he felt a plop of something hit his head. A sniff was all it took to determine that a bird had just pooped on him. With a low growl he looked up, saw where his tormentors were sitting and scaled the wall after them chasing them off.

Looking around to see where they had gone told him there weren't any more birds where he was. With a satisfied rumbled he jumped back down to his spot and laid back down, pleased with a job well done.

Until the cooing started again.

Near sunrise, Elisa was visiting the castle again, and managed to find Goliath looking out at the city from one of the many towers of the building. "Solved the mysteries of life yet?" She asked jokingly.

"Not even close. Though according to one book Brooklyn has found, the answer to life would be 42." Goliath replied.

"Douglas Adams, Derrick likes those books too. Though I never pegged Brooklyn as a sci-fi fan." Elisa mused. "But I do have to talk to you about - ."

At that point, a very loud and frustrated snarl rose up from below them. Rushing to the edge they looked over the crenels to see Bronx viciously chasing a flock of pigeons through the castle.

"…Was he-," Elisa started uncertainly. " –covered in bird droppings?"

Goliath nodded. "I believe you're right. I had better go stop him before he hurts himself."

"At this point, I'd be more scared for the pigeons he catches." Elisa quipped as Goliath took off for the dog.

"Ack, what's with all the racket out here lass?" Hudson groused walking up.

Elisa shook her head. "No sure, but I think Bronx isn't too fond of pigeons right now."

Crenelations - Top of a wall or tower that has lower sections (crenels) for the purpose of giving a castle defender a position to fight or fire through. This protective stonework is the classic outline of the top of a castle wall. To illustrate: −|_|−|_|−|_|−|_|−|

Crenels – (Also called embrasures) Low sections of the crenelations.

Parapet - Walkway located behind the crenelations of a castle, or the fighting platform area of a castle tower.

Okay, this was inspired by something that I read on Gargoyle Wiki, that Greg Weisman had mentioned that Bronx hates pigeons. So I got to thinking, why would he hate these birds? If you've never been near pigeons before, they are stupid, and they actually do this. I used to watch them when I lived in Charleston and let me tell you I have never seen a dumber bird in my life. 


	4. Lexington, Meet Chatroom

This one is a bit naughty, warning for nudity and swearing. I do not own Gargoyles.

Lexington, Meet Chatroom

* * *

><p>"Okay Lexington, here's another book on computers." Brooklyn said pulling a green book from Xanatos's shelves and adding it to the considerable stack of books already on the table. "Will you even be able to read all of these?"<p>

"I still don't see _why_ you think you have to read all this." Broadway announced, eyeing the stack with only mild distaste.

"Because the computers have a language of their own, and I want to learn it. Besides, it seems like most everything in this century uses them somehow." Lexington explained studying the titles of the books before picking up one on binary. "It would be very useful to know how to work the things I want to use instead of asking someone else to help me like a child."

Brooklyn nodded. "Elisa's explained as much as she could about them already, but apparently much the inner workings she's a bit vague on."

"So the humans can't even explain how their machines work?" Broadway asked.

"No, not really. But these machines are so incredibly complex it's not really surprising they can't. According to this book - ." Lexington grabbed another book from the pile. " –there are entire schools just for learning and understanding how machines work. It's artisan work, like making fabric or pottery."

"I dunno, it's a lot like magic to me." Broadway said.

"If you think about it, magic is artisan craft too." Brooklyn said. "Besides, this isn't waving a hand around and repeating an incantation, humans have pretty thorough books on the stuff. Everything from what's what, how it was made, why it's needed, and – the bit Lexington seems to like – how to put it all together and get it to work."

Broadway gave the pile of books one last skeptical glance before giving his two rookery brothers a wave. "I just don't see how it's interesting, I guess. Anyways, I'm hungry. See you two later."

Lexington was sending Broadway a dry glare when Brooklyn turned his attention away from the blue gargoyle's retreating form. "Hey, he was like this back in the 10th century too. He's not into machines, food is a whole 'nother story though. Whereas you, were pulled several times from the armory away from the catapults when you decided you wanted to figure out how they worked."

Lexington blushed and stuck his head in a book. It was an event that several of his rookery mates and a few of the older ones liked to give him a good ribbing over. He had been much younger and decided that he wanted to figure out why exactly the catapult was able to do what it did. The Captain of the Guard had been amused and didn't mind so much, though some of the other warriors weren't thrilled at all with a young gargoyle 'mucking about' on their catapults.

Lexington shook his head of the memory, he hated dwelling on their family; it still hurt too much.

Brooklyn patted Lexington's should comfortingly. "Yeah, sorry. Me and my big mouth. Anyways, I told Goliath that I'd give Bronx some exercise tonight, he really needs it."

Lexington smiled. "Yeah, go on ahead, I'll probably be in here all night."

"Just don't forget to eat." Brooklyn said giving his smaller rookery brother a wave and walking out, leaving Lexington to bury his nose in the books.

After scanning through a few books, he found one that contained a passage about chatrooms and how 'today's young people use them to communicate with each other' listing a few common sites. Skimming through the article, Lexington became curious, the passage mentioned the rooms only briefly and only that they were used to 'talk' to people far apart without having a phone number or mailing address. Leaving the book open he turned to the small computer he had been allowed to use as he wanted and logged into the internet. Typing in one of the sites, he found himself with a list of rooms.

"Religion, Philosophy, Teen, Adult, Music, Books, and Mechanics." Lexington murmured reading off each of the folders. "Um, let's go with mechanics." Clicking the title, a new screen popped up asking for a username, which he obliged (Lexington15), and Lexington found himself in a chat room looking at what looked like a scrolling list.

Lexington paused and watched the screen for a moment, taking time to notice other usernames and tried to figure out the flow of the conversation when a message caught his eye:

BatGuy886 Hey Lexington15, asl?

Lexingtonington blinked and reread the message. "Assel? What's that mean?" He muttered sending a reply.

Lexington15 Hi BatGuy886, what's asl?

BatGuy886 age, sex, location

BatGuy886 ;)

TehHottness90 ya, plz say ur a chick Lexi.

Blinking dumbly at the screen, he tried to decipher what had been typed. "Okay, I'm not entirely sure what language _that_ is, but I'm not sure what baby chickens have to do with anything." But he began typing again.

Lexington15 Um, 38, male and NYC.

Lexington15 What is 'plz'? and what about chicks?

BatGuy886 Aw darm. :(

TechHottness90 r u retarded? How do u not no what plz and chicks r?

TechHottness90 also, way 2 old man

Several more messages blinked onto the screen, all serving to confusing him more since they were all 'talking' in their strange way but not explaining anything until one finally popped up explaining things.

J8675309 'Plz' is 'Please', 'Chick' is slang for 'girl'

Lexington15 Thank you, I was having a hard time understanding.

J8675309 np (no problem), new to the world of chat rooms?

Lexington15 Yes, it's…interesting so far.

J8675309 lol tell me about it.

J8675309 lol = laugh out loud.

Lexington finally relaxed, hoping he might have found a friend and started chatting with J8675309, as well as what seemed to be the only other two people who were actually interested in mechanics. As he started to get into the conversation, which was the beginnings of a debate between different types of engines, a new box ('window' Lexington corrected mentally) appeared on his screen distracting him.

2hot2tr0t69 Would like to video chat with you.

**Accept** **Decline**

Lexington looked at the box and could see this person was telling him to click accept in the same badly typed out way many were using. Grimacing, he glanced at the camera sitting next to the computer and facing pointedly away from him.

Lexington15 I don't have a camera.

He felt bad for lying, a little bit, but in addition to needing to hide what he looked like, the little camera made him paranoid. Even with Xanatos in jail, he felt the man could still watch what they were doing through it.

2hot2tr0t69 dont care, just accept.

Lexington15 Okay.

Lexington15 ?

Shrugging his shoulders he clicked 'accept' and waited for the screen to clear, catching up with the newest messages when the black window turned into a strange wash of blue, white and grey pixels that signaled someone was sitting in the dark using the screen for light. Blinking as they came into all too sharp focus he was greeted with the sight of a very large, very pale and very naked human male, pleasuring himself. For a long moment, all he could do was stare with a horrified look on his face before quickly closing out of the screen.

Lexington15 WHY did you feel the need to show me THAT?!

Lexington15 Dude, just wrong!

2hot2tr0t69so wrong but feels so good

Lexington stared at the words and dropped his face in his talons, letting out a shudder. Gargoyles generally had a looser view of nudity than humans seemed to have, clothing or the lack thereof, just didn't bother them. Sexual acts however, while they certainly weren't considered taboo, were kept as private as possible as they could be while living in a crowded castle. Couples and mate-less gargoyles got disturbed at times of course, but it certainly wasn't flaunted like that!

A dinging sound from the computer caused him to glare upwards through his fingers at the screen. It was J8675309 asking if he was still there. Determined not to let one bad incident ruin his night, he joined in the conversation again, getting through why he had disappeared and a bit of fun poked at his naivety of video chats, the debate on engines resumed.

Another window asking him to video chat with b1gc0ck01. This time Lexington clicked 'decline' and continued chatting. Keeping an eye on the main chat had let him know names with fowls in them seemed more interested in finding 'hot' girls to harass than anything mechanical related. Another ding, from the same person asking to video chat and he declined again, sending a message that he wasn't interested. This happened several more times before a series of dings sounded, and the screen was suddenly filled with video chat offers all from seemingly the same person. Stunned, Lexington quickly tried to exit out of all of them, but for every one he got closed, several more took his place until finally, the screen froze, the ding was a constant ringing, and then his computer crashed.

"What-? How-?" All he could do was stare at the now black screen and tried not to let the frustration convince him to throw the machine out a window. It was a close call.

Letting out a hard puff of air through his nose, he booted the computer back up and tried the chat room again. He got what happened to him posted before the windows started dinging again and his reflection gaped back at him from a black screen. Reboot. Enter chat room. *Ding*

"Son of a bitch!" Lexington hissed as the screen crashed again. The next time he tried a different name and found the other people in his chat were getting booted off the same way when a series of dings signaled that he'd been found out again.

Throwing his hands up and letting out a string of pent up profanity as the computer was once again rebooted and a new message appeared saying his computer was infected with a virus.

"What's ailing you lad?" Hudson asked stepping into the room after hearing the normally quiet gargoyle spitting and cussing.

"Technology." Lexington groaned, turning off the computer and, still fuming, grabbed a book on viruses.

Hudson watched the young warrior and shook his head. "I think I'll stick with the television." He said to Bronx. "Seems less frustrating."

* * *

><p>I am so sorry I haven't updated in so long. Real life can be a bitch. This is kinda based of my first experience with chat rooms, way back in the 90s when I was a kid and they weren't moderated anywhere close to what they are now. I can't tell you how many times I got booted from a chat room this way and I actually quit going to chat rooms for a while because of it. Anyways, hope you enjoy this, I'm thinking putting Goliath on the chopping block next, maybe Broadway.<p> 


End file.
